


Look into the sun, the sun looks back

by mochiandtea



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fem!Steve, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mostly angst-free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:47:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochiandtea/pseuds/mochiandtea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes meets Stella Rogers when he’s ten years old and Stella nine. He meets her when she’s getting shoved around by a bunch of rag tag bullies.</p>
<p>He watches this girl rub her knuckles and put up her fists, despite being bruised and beaten and about to get even more beat, looks at the stubborn set of her jaw and her blue eyed glare, and he knows this is the girl he’s gonna grow up and marry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look into the sun, the sun looks back

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, went there, a brief fem!Steve AU. Whether canon still happens despite this is up to you.
> 
> This is not beta-read. I'm Australian, and this shows in the spelling. Also in my absolute failed attempt at a Brooklyn accent. I have no idea what it sounds like, let alone how to write it, sorry.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!

Bucky Barnes meets Stella Rogers when he’s ten years old and Stella nine. He meets her when she’s getting shoved around by a bunch of rag tag bullies.

She’s tiny, doesn’t even come up to Bucky’s chin, with twiggy limbs and huge blue eyes glaring out of a face so gaunt the cheekbones press close to thin, milk white skin. Her knees and hands are skinned raw and red, bruises are already beginning to bloom translucent blue on her arms, and her blonde plaits are unravelling. And as Bucky watches with some awe, this little pixie who looks like a stiff wind could knock her over picks herself up off the ground and goes at the guy who last pushed her, slamming a left hook against his chin. Even if she’s got no muscle to those skinny arms, she sure has aim cause it lands straight at the point of his chin, where whatever measly force she managed to put in her punch would hurt the worst. The punk’s head snaps back, yelping and clutching at his jaw.

Bucky watches this girl rub her knuckles and put up her fists, despite being bruised and beaten and about to get even more beat, looks at the stubborn set of her jaw and her blue eyed glare, and he knows this is the girl he’s gonna grow up and marry. He doesn’t wonder why, he just knows. The world is round, the sun rises in the east, docks smell like shit, and he’s gonna marry this girl.

So Bucky marches in and sends all the punks packing, getting a few cuts and bruised knuckles for his troubles. Then he turns to the tiny spitfire girl to introduce himself, and finds himself on the end of a fierce glare almost as bad as the one she gave those bullies.

"Woah," he holds up his hands, but stands his ground, "that ain't how you thank a guy."

"Didn't need no help," she snaps, and starts straightening herself up. "I had him on the ropes."

"Sure you did," he nods, and it's not like he's being completely sarcastic, she's vicious and just _wow_ when she's angry. "Could'a sent 'em packing yourself, but it's faster with two people, right?"

She eyes him suspiciously for another moment, then reluctantly accepts his words. "Well. Thanks, then," she nods. She tugs on her unravelled plaits and tries to at least get them swinging straight.

"I'm Bucky," he tells her, cause she's looking somewhere else, and he really wants her to not look away from him. "Bucky Barnes."

"Stella Rogers," she pauses slightly to introduce herself, then goes right back to tugging on her braids. He'd be annoyed if he didn't find her frustrated face so, so _amazing_. It's just as bright as her angry face, and he's never gonna look away.

"Hey, you need help with them?" he blurts out, and flushes when she shoots him a look of disbelief. "I got three sisters, picked up somethin' cause they'd 've cried otherwise. It'll go faster with another person, yeah?"

Stella still looks like she doesn't believe him, but she nods. "Okay. Not here though. We can go back to my place, and Ma can check it after you're done."

He can't help it. He grins. "Fine. Lead the way Rogers."

Of course he's grinning, she wants him to stick around! And she's grinning back, even if she looks a bit confused. They'll be friends in no time at this rate.

And Bucky's gonna go to her place, and meet her Ma. He's ten, so he's got lots of time to butter up her Ma before he can start asking for her daughter. See, he's got a rough plan, and more than enough time to work on it.

Bucky's bruised and cut, and Stella's even more beat next to him, and Bucky's pleased as punch.

 

***

 

And it stays like that in future years, and Bucky's never not pleased as punch about this. 'Cause he learns to get better at helping Stella out in whatever, braids and illnesses and fights, and she's whole as the world could let her be, next to him with as little bruising and hurt for such a big glowing soul in her tiny body, and he'll take everything he can grab, ain't nothing getting in his way there.

And whaddaya know, the world throws shit at the two of them but it lets him have this; it lets him have the girl he knew since he was ten that he was gonna marry. She's the mouthiest person in the world and she picks arguments with people who sometimes forget it ain't right to hit an unarmed dame (he _finishes_ them when that happens). Her body gets sick easy, and each winter is a toss-up on whether the world will finally take her from him (he works overtime for medicine money, prays using her thin artist fingers as a rosary, threatens his own punishment if the world takes her it'll _burn_ ).

She won't stand for a bully and she'll say it loud, she won't flinch even when there's a six-foot meathead coming at her, just puts her fists up and starts looking for the best places to hit before he can get to her. She'll get sick and she'll still come to greet him when he comes in from the cold after a day at the docks, at least slightly feverish and a little unsteady, and just her puttering over to hug him is all he needs to feel safe, at home, even as he drives himself mad worrying and clings.

She's tiny and too thin, candy-floss yellow hair and blazing blue eyes bright and stark against her prominent cheekbones and pale white skin, and she's just so _bright_. On the day she wears a blue dress and lets him slide a plain ring around her finger she's burning like a star, smile blinding, and he's absolutely dizzy with it; he can't look away.

He can't. He's been looking since he was ten years old. Worth going blind to look into the sun, and see it looking back.


End file.
